Paint my mood blue
Seemingly out of context and without warning, it hits me. Hard. Like a punch to the chest, it takes my breath away.
I have terminal lung cancer.
Tuesday afternoon I crawled into bed with the heating pad and had myself a good long cry. Eventually David wandered in and joined me under the covers. We just lay there for a bit. Feeling blue.
And then, because we have a fifteen year old for whom we are doing our best to maintain a veneer of normalcy, we pulled it together. David started dinner and I blew my nose and washed my face.
Peter was working on homework at the dining room table and I sat down across from him. Picking up the science section of the New York Times, I starting reading an article by Natalier Angier, True Blue Stands Out In An Earthy Crowd. Here was a totally different take on blue. Blue in all its wonder. Filled with awe inspiring paragraphs such as this one: “In place of blue pigment, vertebrates and others turn to figment. As Dr. Prum and others have determined lately, many of nature’s most spectacular blues — the plumage of a blue jay or indigo bunting, the teal of a skink lizard’s tail, and now the lesula monkey’s blue scrotum and Pollia’s shimmering blue fruit — are structural in nature. They arise from the specific shape and arrangement of their underlying components.”
So there you go. It’s tough going sometimes, but it’s all about perspective. An hour earlier, my heart had been breaking. And now it was bursting with joy.
life and breath: outliving lung cancer 
Linnea I love you. Hollywood loves you. Thank you for sharing the highs and the terrible lows that you experience. I cannot even begin to imagine, but I want you to know that I adore you and you are a huge joy to me and about a billion other people. I’m staring at the clear blue sky out of my office window right now with a new perspective because of you. Thanks. xoxoxoxox
I love you. And I love your comment. Speaking of perspective, the unacquainted might think I have somehow landed a movie contract, when in fact you are referring to my love affair with a cat (not just any cat, your cat) named Hollywood 🙂 You’re a true blue friend, missy.
Linnea
I think Julia said it so perfectly, and I think Hollywood in California would love you too if they just took a look at what is real and perfect in our world for then they would see you
Aw Amy…thanks. Real, for sure. Perfect, not so much but that’s okay. Lots of beauty in imperfection (in fact, I often prefer it).
love, Linnea
Linnea, you are my hero. And I don’t mean Hollywood hero, either. Great news about your film contract, though! Oh, wait…
Love you very much, blue, green, beige
xoCristina
Cristina, this works out fine as you are one of my heroes as well. And I think it’s just a bit part…what do they call those people? A grip, that’s it…I’m a grip 🙂
orange, yellow, purple (equal opportunity)
xoLinnea
Auntie Linnea, just want to echo what Cristina wrote, that you are my hero too 🙂
love, Chris
Chris, the format will only let me leave a reply to my reply not yours, so sorry! But thank you my dear nephew/friend. I have the deepest admiration for your precocious wisdom and courageous approach to life. Onward!
Linnea
As always, your post is very eloquent. I think its possible that after a yoga experience like flow yoga which pushed you a bit, you felt a release which meant that some of the feelings you had been holding inside, came out. Better out than in Linnea!
Beryl, hello! Flow yoga did push me (in truth, pushed right by me!), although Jem (in all her youth!) was a natural. Better out than in, so true ( have found out the hard way).
love, Linnea
Linnea, you are allowed a blue moment or a blue day if needed. We all need to remember “better out that in”. Thank you for your supportive comment regarding Steve. Attitude is critical, we know. He is somewhat down after the scan results and the pain often steals the joy from this beautiful fall for him. Be strong, Lady and serene.
Hedy, thank you. Please pass on my encouragement by also my understanding to Steve.
Linnea